


patience yields focus

by epiproctan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epiproctan/pseuds/epiproctan
Summary: Shiro uses an unconventional training method to teach Keith the value of patience.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is cliche as all hell it's probably been done a million times in my defense i've never read a single sheith fic........

“Patience yields focus,” Shiro reminds him, and dips down for the head of Keith’s cock again, which is truly unfortunate, because, well,

Shiro’s tongue is _maddening_.

That’s why Keith’s still here. If it wasn’t for Shiro’s goddamn tongue he’d be free already. Maybe kissing Shiro lazily, maybe cuddling, maybe gearing up for round two. But Shiro’s tongue is some new kind of suffering and its owner, Shiro himself, is evil incarnate.

He _knows_ it, too, which is all the more frustrating. He smiles as he presses the tip of his tongue to Keith’s slit, rakes his gaze up Keith’s naked body to his face.

Keith’s entire body jerks, causing the restraints around his wrists to clang against each other. Shiro’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth coming away from _where Keith really needs it to be right now_. Keith tosses his head back against the pillow, a strangled growl rising from his throat.

“Keith,” Shiro cautions, his hand coming to rest on Keith’s upper thigh. It’s simultaneously too close and too far, and it sits there weighty and unmoving. He waits until Keith meets his eyes, breath coming out from between clenched teeth in heavy huffs. “Let’s wait a few minutes.”

Keith has faced quite a number of life-threatening situations recently, but this is the first time he’s really thought to himself, _I might die here_.

It was all Shiro’s dumb idea. Hatched after a day of training during which Keith recklessly threw himself around. Inspired by a mission where Keith’s inability to do anything but charge in headfirst almost got him shot. They’d talked about it after, of course, in the two separate contexts that competed between them. The first with Shiro’s hand on his shoulder, a serious look in his eye, a leader to a teammate. The second in between breathless kisses, from someone who couldn’t stand the thought of losing something so important to him.

Keith, then, had promised to try harder, and if Shiro wanted to put that into his training, then sure, he’d do it. He’d do it to make Shiro happy.

Shiro had grinned. And Keith had found himself handcuffed to Shiro’s bed.

He has no idea how long he’s been here, only that it’s long enough that every inch of his body _aches_. His arms, from being pulled up above his head for so long. His shoulders, from every time he’s tried yanking against the restraints. His throat, from his mindless begging, and his legs, from kicking against the sheets. But most of all his throbbing cock, neglected again and again and again and _again_ until tears are building in the corners his his eyes and his blood runs like fire.

The hand on Keith’s thigh turns into a hand ghosting over his shaft. Keith curls his toes, plants his heels, tries to drive his hips up into Shiro’s fingers, huffing and panting. But Shiro takes his hand away in response, cocking his head at Keith.

“You’re not being patient,” he says, like he can’t understand why Keith is tugging against his restraints.

Keith grits his teeth. “How can I be _patient_ when you’re doing _that_.”

“This?” Shiro asks, all pseudo-innocence, and leans down again. He doesn’t take his eyes off Keith’s as he lets his tongue slip out of his mouth and drags it along the underside of his cock. When he reaches the head, he takes it between his lips and sucks lightly. The sound that comes out of Keith’s throat is broken and jagged.

But the heat of his mouth disappears before Keith can even properly become aware of it. Instead now Shiro nips at the insides of his thighs, pausing every so often to leave a mark, smoothing them over with kisses. It’s insanely infuriating. An encroaching shadow threatens the edges of Keith’s vision as his back arches uselessly.

Keith would do anything. _Anything_. Just to have that mouth entirely around him. To feel the head of his cock hit the back of Shiro’s throat. For Shiro’s tongue to wet him completely, to watch himself disappear between Shiro’s lips. If Keith could have it the way he wants he’d be shoving into Shiro’s mouth, coming down his throat, feeling him swallow it all around him. Hell, he’d be more than happy with Shiro’s hand right now, encompassing and warm and knowing just how to twist to make him feel good. Keith is so desperate, _so_ desperate for _any_ of that. He gasps in air like he’s drowning.

_Patience…yields focus_.

That’s right. There’s a reason for all this. Keith closes his eyes, tries to steady his breath. It’s hard. _He’s_ hard, so hard it aches. His hips burn, searing and wild. He clenches his teeth and wills himself still. He can feel himself trembling with the exertion of it, but he concentrates on his breathing. In and out.

“Oh,” Shiro says. Keith doesn’t trust himself to look at him right now, but he can hear the smile in his voice. His weight shifts on the bed, his hand creeps up towards Keith’s cock, along the inside of his thigh.

Keith tightens his hands into fists, fingernails biting into his palms, but doesn’t move his hips. When Shiro reaches him, encircles him in his fingers, Keith has to clamp his teeth down on his lower lip to keep himself from crying out. Shiro’s hand is so big, so hot, running up and down like it was created just to set Keith blazing. But Keith can ride this out, Keith can wait, Keith can be patient.

“That’s it, Keith,” Shiro says, his low, rich bedroom voice melding together with his team leader praise to form something that has Keith taking a series of shuddering breaths. “You’ve got it. Just like that.”

Almost immediately after, the agony that is Shiro’s tongue is on him again. It takes all of Keith’s resolve and then some to just accept the feel of it, to absorb the sensation without seeking more. Keith cracks an eye open and immediately regrets it. Shiro is watching him, eyes dark and intense, as he tongues his cock. Keith swallows hard, and Shiro goes forward with his lips.

Keith’s mind babbles something about patience and focus and Shiro and _don’t move, don’t move, don’t move_. _Just wait for him, wait for him_. His heart pounds so hard it hurts inside his chest, but he’s more worried about his aching cock, halfway into Shiro’s mouth. Shiro’s taking it excruciatingly slowly, moving his lips down an inch at a time, popping off to lap at the precum leaking from the tip, letting it sink further into his mouth, flashing his eyes up to Keith’s face to watch him squirm. And through this he waits, he waits, he waits, until he’s sure that he’s being rent in two, that he must actually be on fire, that his body will literally give out on him if this goes on for any longer.

Shiro sits up a little more, peering down at Keith, keeping on hand on his cock to slowly stroke while he talks.

“Seems like you’ve got the idea,” he says, his lips quirking up into a smile.

Keith doesn’t entirely trust his voice, so he nods. Or at least he tries to. It’s more of a desperate jerk of his head in an up-and-down direction.

Shiro leans forward and wipes tears from his eyes that he didn’t even know were there.

“Well, you’ve been so patient, I think it’s time to let you have what you want.”

Keith _breaks_ when Shiro lowers his lips around him again. A sob tears out of his lungs and he thrusts his hips up into the soft heat of Shiro’s mouth. Shiro lets it happen, guiding his hips, sucking and lowering his jaw for him.

It’s a matter of seconds before a shock rolls through Keith, overpowering and almost harsh. Shiro works him through it, and Keith rasps his name, over and over, his spine arching off the mattress, hands pulling against the restraints. Shiro swallows it all, and Keith falls apart.

He lays there, motionless, panting, thoughtless, until his wrists are freed and Shiro shifts him into his lap. Keith lets himself be handled and settles into Shiro’s arms, against his broad chest, and accepts a slow, warm kiss from him.

Shiro’s grinning when he pulls back. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he says, bowing his head to nuzzle against Keith’s neck.

“Mm,” is Keith’s only reply. His body is beginning to protest, but Shiro rubs his wrists gently and distracts him from the pain.

“If you ever charge into something without thinking first again, I’m not going to go as easy on you as I did this time,” Shiro continues.

Keith shivers. He’s _definitely_ going to try his best at this patience thing from now on.


End file.
